


If You Loved Me Why'd You Leave Me

by WhenOopsMetHi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Dark, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenOopsMetHi/pseuds/WhenOopsMetHi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there's one thing Stiles adored more than anything, it's Derek's ability to live. To grab any opportunity, to pour his heart and soul into anything. He was a dreamer, somebody who hugged enthusiastically and embraced the world with a fierce soul that rivaled even an alpha werewolf. Stiles loved how tousled Derek looked in the morning and how he was strong enough for a little manhandling when Stiles was in the mood, but most of all he loved that Derek saw the world with colors that didn't exist and dreams bigger than life. Stiles was so proud of Derek, of everything he had achieved, for all his scars and memories and lesson. Derek made Stiles feel alive, as if there was so much to look forward to. Derek made Stiles feel worthy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Loved Me Why'd You Leave Me

**Author's Note:**

> *begs not to be killed by angry mob waiting for fanfic updates since Feb* I COME BEARING ANGST

_Remember three nights ago? Do you remember bringing me flowers? Do you remember how I blushed and fumbled for a vase and broke it? Do you remember pinning my palms in your hands with your thumb stroking over my flesh to check for glass pieces? Do you remember those red carnations?_

_I'm looking for them, hold on a moment._

"Hello there sonny! Can I help you?" an elderly man placed his pruning scissors on the table and greeted Stiles with a bright smile, dimming slightly when he took in the youngster's blank face and greying complexion.

"Yes. I need carnations. Please." Stiles' voice was hollow and void of any emotion and he hastily added a snapped 'please' making his instruction a request, remembering that it was polite.

"Any particular color? A special occasion perhaps?" the man began wandering aisles, surveying bouquets and beckoning the slender lad forward.

"Red." he answered simply.

The florist shrugged, some people were straightforwardly monosyllabic.

"Ah? This rose color means admiration." He pulled a light cayenne color of buds for assessment from a shelf.

The teenager shook his head, "Red. Like blood."

Well. Okay.

"Hmm?" He held a fresh shipment of striped white and currant flowers for inspection, "This means pure love, or good luck. Depending on the circumstances."

"Completely red." The boy's fists clenched and his face twisted, as if replaying a painful memory.

Poor lad.  
Alright, it was his job to please a customer.

He finally located what seemed frighteningly accurate to the man's request, "Crimson carnations." he produced with a flourish.

The boy appraised the flowers and his eyes seemed slightly shiny, then again, it may have been the fluorescents.

 _"Incarnacyon_. Love and affection." The boy spoke with such reverence it was obvious this was for somebody special, and in no way platonic.

As the man tied the blossoms with vines and spritzed them water and scent boosting nebulizer, he regarded the slumped shoulders and empty eyes and sallow skin.

Taking pity on him, he added striped, yellow and pure white carnations into the bundle, free of charge. He rang the order up and swiped the credit card, neatly tying a bow onto the clear box of floret.

"Oh. I didn't order these." Stiles cast a cursory glance over the box's contents and paused, wide dark eyes fixed on the florist, barren of emotion save for vague confusion.

"It's my good deed for the day."

He blinked slowly, "Oh."

"May I ask you something, lad?" he'd never met somebody this young and grim in all his years, without waiting for an answer the brazen man ploughed ahead, "Who are those flowers for?"

Stiles hesitated for the quarter of a second before admitting, "My boyfriend." The words made the florist startle. Well gosh, that was sweet.

"That's lovely. I hope he's good and I wish you two a lifetime of happiness together." He handed the card back and watched with the most odd feeling of regret as the boy walked out of his shop.

_I found them._  
_Those flowers._  
_For you._  
_For me._  
_For_ **us.**

_Remember when you brought me flowers? Those nights ago? It's kind of funny, isn't it? Now i'm bringing you flowers._

_You're so tired, I know you love these flowers, I brought you some to make you feel better. Maybe the scent of it will help you get better soon. Remember that day when we you wandered too far off the paths in the Reserve and stumbled across a shrub of the flowers? You're too weak to get the flowers now, so i've brought you some instead._

 

you're not here  
i'm quaking apart and i've no rock to hold on to, i have no anchor  
you used to joke with me, tell me to be my own anchor because you won't always be there  
i scolded you for speaking like that and sprawled across you like octopus tentacles

_please do not be mad_  
_forgive me?_

_stop sleeping so much?_

_kiss me back?_

_open those gorgeous hazel-green eyes of yours_

_speak to me, even if it just to scream at me_

_i cannot handle this stone cold silence that grips us_

_just a couple of nights ago we lay side by side on that hilltop_

_foolishly attempting to count the stars and map the earth with our memory and grass as landscapes_

_we were the moon, and the celestial bodies that littered the clear sky were our future endeavors and destinations_

_let's go back to that time_

_i'll take a picture and we can live out our lives in that moment._

 

Stiles sat at the water's edge, playing with the grainy sand and watching the waves lap lazily at the white shore.

The stronger tide suddenly swept stray shells and unsuspecting crabs, moments later the water was smooth as the waves receded.

Like life, Stiles mused, you're not really sure what to expect, and then you're blindsided. A constant wading through shallow waters and an abrupt nose dive, you're trying to breathe through it but you're drowning and you're not really sure which way is up.

They tell me to deal, they tell me to cope, I ask them _how_ because they don't really know, they can order me to expel my emotions in order not to deal with them.  
Denial was as good a method as any, right?

They cannot sympathize because they've never experienced their entire life halt, they've never had the rug pulled from beneath them, they've never had their entire life pulled apart at the very seams, their core was still strong and stable. Stiles's wasn't.

Derek was muscled and bulky but not overtly so, while Stiles was more slender with narrow hips and voluptuous assets. Whenever they hugged, Stiles chin hooked onto Derek shoulder while Derek's hands wandered below his spine and _squeezed._

Derek loved the ocean, he'd splash around and take off his shirt, revel in the way Stiles' eyes would trace the hard muscles and the cut of his V.  
Derek loved to torture Stiles by striking ridiculous poses and wink dramatically.

One of Derek's more hilarious moments was when he urged Stiles to _"paint me like one of your French girls."_

Derek would beg Stiles to just throw the sunscreen bottle away because _the water feels icky when I have the stupid cream on me,_ whiles Stiles clucked and lectured about the ultraviolet rays and how they are legitimate carcinogens.

They'd sprawl across the sand obnoxiously and chomp crisps noisily, lick at their ice lollies and enjoy their day. Stiles was the _girl,_ he was in no means uptight but compared to his boyfriend, he was definitely the more responsible one.

Whereas Derek wanted to ditch the world for a weekend, hop in the Camaro and travel to wherever the wind takes them, Stiles was constantly reminding him about their responsibilities and duties, they couldn't abandon their tasks just for spontaneity.

_These regrets would not scar Stiles physically, but their presence will taint his soul longer than anything on his skin ever could._

 

I'm climbing to the top of the world  
but I refuse to complete this journey  
without your presence

I will join you, my love  
sooner than you know

I will return to you  
this separation will not be permanent.

 

Stiles thinks back fondly to when Derek met his family, his three year old brother Scott had been completely amused that _Dewek and Tiles are kisses like mummy and daddy! haha!_ The Sheriff and Melissa had exchanged amused glances.

Stiles was man enough to admit he was slightly jealous of how much attention Derek had payed Scott, feeding him grapes and cooing and playing with his legos-

Okay whatever, he was the _mature one._

Stiles could vividly remember preparing for dinner with Derek's elder sisters and parents. They were his second family, welcoming him warmly and taking playful jabs at the pair, Derek had no qualms teasing Stiles about him bottoming, Stiles had froze and everyone at the table burst into raucous laughter, calling him adorable and too shy for Derek but making a nice change from the usual catty girls Derek tugged home with him. Laura and Stiles got along especially, bonding over their shared exasperation at Derek, their impending careers in the legal field and their love for desserts. Cora and himself attended the same university and ran in similar social circles as well as attending the same few lectures. They grew closer after the first three months of dating Derek.

Stiles adored Derek's accent, his boyfriend had spent a couple of years with relatives who'd been from the more elite part of the city, upper class and exclusive, so he still tainted his words with this high class mannerism before remembering who he was addressing, Stiles would amuse himself with his partner's etiquettes. 

Stiles would think about their first interaction with fond affection, he had been dragged to a Lacrosse game with his friends who were gushing about this new player in their age division who were gonna land them their district medals and colors. Jackson was actually excited while Lydia rattled about this player's stats and scores. Boyd even said he "admired" him, coming from the monosyllabic teen, this was high praise indeed, for him to actually claim his approval verbally.

Stiles had sat in the sweltering heat with his earphones in but alas not even Fallout Boy could completely eradicate the hullabaloo of a match with vocally strident oppositions clamoring to be amateur mascots and cheerleaders.

Eventually Stiles realized he was going have to brave the last couple of hours with the support and encouragement of food. Muttering to himself as he stood in the queue for the hotdogs, "How even do you play a lacrosse, I don't even care."

"Why are you at a match, then?" Somebody asked not, not rudely though. Perhaps curious.

Stiles glanced up to find a guy a good few inches taller than him, he was pretty attractive with plump cherry lips and a cheeky grin and glinting green eyes.

"My friends dragged me here because apparently there's a legendary Tiger Wood two point zero here." Stiles drawled, inwardly cursing his weakness to say no to Lydia.  
He tugged at the collar of his shirt, goddamn it was hot.

Green-Eyes-Bunny-Teeth-And- _Biceps_ laughed loudly and unabashed, "Tiger Woods exceeds in his field, yes, but he plays golf, not Lacrosse."

Stiles fixed him with a blank look and then patted his jeans pocket concernedly, "Oh gosh, I think I might have lost the last fuck I give, darn it. And i was _so_ looking forward to caring."

"Do you hate Lacrosse?" He sounded bemused, it was blazing and Stiles' iPod had just died so this guy was his only distraction, might as well.

"I don't really know much about it, it's so irrelevant in my life." Stiles shrugged. Stiles abstained from saying _'my mum loved Lacrosse and when she died I distanced myself from it, I don't like to be near it or associated with it'_

"Do you know who I am?" Scruffy-Beard-And-Oh-God-Were-Those- _Dimples_ murmured, an odd look passed over his face.

He was now seventh in line and pretty boy was eight, "No." Stiles reddened when he realized he hadn't the courtesy to introduce himself and held out his hand, "Stiles."

"Derek." He had a firm grip, Stiles' fingertips tingled at his cool touch.

"You're a fan." Stiles sighed, noting _Derek's attire._

They got into a heated debate about togs, Derek bought them lunch and settled at a table speaking about everything and anything.

They had exchanged numbers and texted constantly. When Derek had suggested they go out for dinner, Stiles had assumed a movie and Chinese food. He was not prepared to be wine and dined at the ocean. Complete with a picnic basket of chocolate covered strawberries, merlot wine and creamy chicken Derek himself had prepared.

Stiles had leaned over and kissed him that night. Derek tasted of nutmeg and mocha with the barest hint of berry from their wine.

They'd both pulled apart and blushed before Derek straddled him and they lazily kissed until the moon hung low and proud and the fireflies came out to play.

A couple of weeks later when school had started Stiles had bemoaned his life to Derek. Their entire school was in uproar because this hotshot transfer student just tried out for Lacrosse with the request of Captain position and _landed it._

Apparently he was hot as well, all of Stiles mates could not stop gushing about him.

Derek had just laughed, made Stiles promise he would try and have a better first day back and hung up.

Stiles glared at his form teacher who'd announced a new student would be joining them today and he was to be treated with respect and welcomed openly.

Stiles snorted derisively, alright bitch, he mocked.  
If you didn't get popular within your first year in this school, kiss your chance of being treated fairly goodbye.

Stiles was privileged that he came from a classy family and had made his mark in this institute, his friends were proof of that.

He didn't look up from his phone when the door opened, didn't care to deign this student with his attention.

It wasn't until he heard the warbled gasps that he glanced up curiously and froze.

Derek was there in their charcoal-grey tuxedo school uniform, snapping his gum and casually eyeing Stiles.

Derek winked and Stiles' breath hitched along with half of the female population in the classroom, ogling him. Stiles didn't appreciate their leers.

"You may sit where you desire." Their educator informed him.

Derek deliberately took a step forward and made a show of surveying the entire class and their available options, people threw bags and stationery off of the empty seats to make room for him.

Stiles just stared, not attempting to move his knapsack, Derek took it upon himself to move the bag and sat next to him, hooking their ankles.

Stiles leaned forward and Derek pressed their lips together, his long fingers capturing Stiles jaw.

"Hey babe." Derek greeted brightly when they parted, his eyes were clear and glistening.

Stiles had laughed and then wanted to die when he realized he's exclaimed his loathing of Lacrosse to the school's captain of the Lacrosse team.

 

They liked to escape for little moments, just with each other.

_Three nights ago you brought me red carnations._

I was petting the petals of those flowers when you texted me, **'Hey baby, I know I said i'd be there by three but I just want to make a quick stop at that deli you love, I know how much you love their ice cream. I'll be quick, I love you!'**

Stiles had fallen asleep on the couch in his onesie and with reruns of Spongebob, he checked the time and frowned.

Two hours late?

He powered up his phone and yawned.

A single text from Derek, twenty minutes ago.

'Saying i love you isn't enough but i do'

Stiles frowned, where was his boyfriend?

 

When my grandfather suffered a heart attack and I skipped school that day, I remember clutching at Pa's icy hand and patting his cheek, tugging the blanket tighter around his shoulders to chase the cold. You were there, I sat in your lap and sobbed, your touch calmed me, you embraced me and we both cried for the lost life.

"Stiles, angel. He's in a better place now, his suffering is over, he's free." You attempted to console me all the while your cheeks streamed with tears, we stumbled outside needing the air that didn't stink of disinfectant and sterile medication.

We shared a cup of cocoa, I was numb. Empty.

Anguish and agony and vague disbelief.

 

You were there for me. Where was I for you?

 

I tried that recipe of butter roast and baby potatoes, they tasted like sawdust.  
The breaking dawn no longer holds that frosty mystery and brings new hope, it just signals another day I must push myself out of bed and to brave the world with barely concealed bitterness and sorrow.

Words that I once treasured and appreciated became drones and incoherent babbles.

The sound of your voice grates at my nerves whenever somebody calls me babyboy.

Your eyes reflect in the scorching flames.

Your scent lingers in the sheets and on your pillow.

My parents, my grandparents, your parents, your sister, my sister, my brother, our friends.

They've all come to me, to hug me and kiss me, to help me but as I pat their backs and assure them _i'm fine,_ I feel so alone.

My partner in crime, my better half, my fun side, my soulmate.

My everything.

_Derek._

I turned to alcohol, had an adventure with strangers that involved a chicken and crayons.

I fell into bed and reached out to curdle into your warmth and tell you about my latest escapade. My fingers clutched at clean and cold linen and just like that my head rushes and my stomach rolls.

You're not here. Where are you Derek? Why did you leave? Where have you gone?

****

### Epilogue 

****

_this is where heaven and hell form an agreement_  
_earth is subject to life being a gamble_

 

_remember when we used to eskimo kiss, press our foreheads together and just be_  
_in this state of companionship and love_  
_we'd exist in exquisite limbo_  
_with each other_  
_neither of us feeling the urge to speak_

 

_now when I press my lips to yours, you do not respond_  
_I sigh and look out the window,_  
_I've brought you your favorite flowers_

_The red carnations corsage is wrapped around your wrist._

 

_I remember my birthday letter from you;_

**Remember Me.**

**Remember me when I'm ash.**  
**Remember me when I'm dust and dirt and earth and grass.**

**Remember me when my flesh rots and my bones disintegrate.**

**Remember me when light rain drizzles and cleans my final resting place.**

**Remember me when you see the color of my eyes kindle in your dreams or cascade in the sand.**

**Remember me when you hear a laugh that mimics mine or a voice that echoes mine.**

**Remember me when you see slender wrists and sharp teeth.**

**Remember me when you taste a flavor that reminisces my lips.**

**Remember me when you listen to the incessant tap of a pencil or my favorite band.**

**Remember me when you quote my favorite author and use their words to justify an argument against me.**

**Remember me when you suckle watermelon sweets and remember me when you taste litchi flavored water.**

**Remember me with thoughts of joy and seek my memory in times of sorrow and loss.**

**Remember me when fingers brush your spine and the wet heat of a mouth caresses your biceps.**

**Let me not be lost to the void of forgotten memories.**

**Remember me when I'm gone.**

How could i ever forget

when those are the only tributes worth forgetting

your lips are imprinted in mine

I shall always remember

even when i've forgotten my mother's face

and my own name

I will remember you 

_Oh._

_They want me to place the flowers on your coffin, I brushed the invisible dirt from your epaulettes, pressing kisses to your closed eyelids and stone cold cheeks and blue tinged lips._

_I latch onto memories of you, for that is all that remains._

_You brought me flowers three nights ago._

_Remember those flowers? The red ones?_

_I made sure they were on your grave…_

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse, no reason for my abandonment of my works all these months, all i can offer is profuse apologies and the promise i'll be better this time. Comments are welcome or shoot me a tweet at @AlphaandHuman, i'm open to prompts :)
> 
> #LongLiveSterek  
> Until next time  
> Lutz xx


End file.
